The ' Lian Legacy
by LianLegacy
Summary: Two adolescent teens struggle with their roles in Republic City during and after the rise of The Equalist. Lian, a seventeen year old girl who was abandoned by her water-bending mother, is an exceptional Chi-blocker who crosses paths with Taizuya Khan, a sixteen-year-old orphaned firebender. They explore love, betrayal, and discover things aren't as black and white as they seem.
1. What The Water Gave Me

_A toddler, traveling along the beach of Republic City with my hand gripped in one twice the size of my own. The thin summer dress that billows in the breeze tickles the back of my legs. The ivory sand is quick to swallow my feet which forms small dunes wherever I step._

_I look up, attempting to see who it is that is leading me to the waters. But the sunlight shimmers in my eyes, withholding the identity of my caretaker inside of its glorious rays of light. It envelops me in familiar warmth, and despite the lack of face, I know that the one leading me to the waning waves and dancing intensity of the sunlight, is the mother I've never met. _

_We reach the trendline of the beach, where the water finally gathers enough courage to embrace the sand. As crystal-blue waves shyly kiss my tiny toes before retreating, my mother releases my hand, allowing me to curiously waddle my way into the mysterious blue. I wade my way in deeper, the cool water tingles and exfoliates my pores and I probe farther into the deep, until I know that if I take another curious step further, I'll be swallowed whole. The water is freezing, and as I look down, I can see my little legs and little stubs of toes through the water. The sudden transformation from blue to transparent makes me awkwardly uncomfortable, but I don't turn back._

_The weather drastically changes course. I raise my head in time to witness cotton clouds morph into chokes of black smoke, A once solid indigo foreground warping into a foreboding gray. _

_Paroxysms of lightning reach for me as the thunder screams my name, the water begins to stir and overwhelm me as pelts of liquid falling from the sky commit suicide as they convulse with the water of panicking waves. _

_I can't hold my own much longer._

_I turn to the shore, flustered but determined to make my way out of the waters. I watch in horror as I see the arms of my mother conduct the dismay of the waves as they are raised higher, and higher, and higher. She inches closer to the waters with her arms still raised, as if she's holding the weight of the entire ocean. The waves begin to stretch into the skyline, a mighty war cry drowning out my desperate cries. Just as I almost free myself of the water's grip, _

_She lowers her arms, the waves twist and coil towards me quickly, and the sharp blades of water begin to chastise my skin as—_

I spasm out of the nightmare, dead cold in the linen sheets of my bed even though it's midsummer. Sunlight leaks through the single window in my room. I force myself to sit up and immediately taste copper in my mouth, feel my stomach begin to whirl, and try to count my breaths as my heart tries to find its beat again; but it's not good enough. I barely make it to the toilet before the grief comes wailing out of my mouth.

I hastily clean myself up, hold my hair together at the back of my head with a red butterfly pin I'd found the night before and , analyze myself in the mirror. I place my palms on the edges of the rusted sink, trying to shake the feeling that something, somehow, is missing. I can't help but to wonder if my mother had the same icy eyes as me, the same wavy brown hair. And if she were here, would-

"Lian," a voice says from the archway of the door. "How did you sleep?"

I turn to face my father, Guozhi Chen, embarrassed by my thoughts and smile awkwardly. If people could read minds…

"Fine," I say, clicking the metal bands on my wrist into place. "I slept fine." It's the expected answer. He asks the same question every morning, and I give him the same reply, respectively. It's our annual small talk; we use empty words to bury the dead silence between breakfast, lunch, and dinner, because we both know what lies in the shadows of thoughts when you are given time to _think._ We know what happens when the only conversation in the room is the chime of a fork meeting a plate, the static chatter of the radio. We know what secrets are whispered by our subconscious when the lonely ghost in the empty third chair screams out for you to acknowledge her, but you've been trained to tune her out.

"The nightmares?" He asks as I slide past him to exit the bathroom in order to gather my things for my lesson. The question catches me off guard. I stiffen up, clenching the training gear in my hand as I stare outside the window above my armoire into the midsummer heat. The light stings my eyes and I feel them moisten. My heart begins to run laps again.

"They've been…" Not so far off, I catch site of Keshi waving, his figure blurred by the heat. "The nightmares have gotten better—"I lie as I shove my gear into the bag and stumble over my words: "I-I mean— they're not as _bad_ anymore. "

I can feel the smile that forms on his face on my back, as bright as the sunrise.

"It looks as though the tainted blood of your mother is finally boiling out of your system, Lian. How great is it that after seventeen years, the foul blood of a Bender that runs through you is finally leaving your system?" He places a warm hand on my shoulder and squeezes it affectionately.

"It's great." I wipe my moist eyes, realizing how long I've been deliberately staring into the sun. "I'm going skip breakfast and practice with Keshi this morning. I'll be back before nightfall." On cue, Keshi knocks on the ragged door of our home. I sling my training bag over my shoulder, turning to find my father still smiling. The creases of age slightly paint his face, particularly around his mouth. Despite the fact that he's smiling know, the flow lines of history that couture his mouth tell me a different story. He hugs me, an unusual occurrence, and I'm so amazed by it that it takes a while for me to hug him back.

"You are becoming a great woman, Lian. I've raised you well, but you've sculpted yourself into quite a fine jewel yourself."

At a loss of words I allow my arctic eyes to thank my father in ways foolish words never could. Keshi's energetic knocking shatters the moment.

"Well," my father says awkwardly as he steps away from me, like he's suddenly remembered that I'm seventeen and no longer seven. "Go on. Hone your skills so that you can become one to defend us Equalist when I'm too old and brittle to."

When Keshi knocks _again,_ I give my father one tight squeeze before heading to the door.

"And Lian," he calls after me. "You should unpin your hair. Your mother use to wear her hair pinned that way."

I quickly remove the pin and allow my hair to graze my shoulders, gently placing the memorabilia in my pocket for safekeeping. I'd dispose of it later. As I open the door, welcoming both Keshi and the waning sun, I question if it was the sun that made my eyes water, after all.


	2. If Only For a Night

Once again, I've overslept.

It never fails. I can tell myself, "Tai, you've got a long day ahead of you, you should sleep." Or, "Tai, sleep now or forever be nagged by Akemi." But the fact of the matter is that I may be many things, but a man who appreciates early sleep is _not _one of them.

"Taizuya Khan! So help me if you are _still _sleep I will roast your cheeks in front of a _live _audience!" Akemi threatens as she thumps her way upstairs. She isn't kidding, either. I hightail my way out of my bed and into clean clothes faster than a crook hightails it from the RCDF. Just as I zip up my pants, she barges into my room with a spatula that looks seriously threatening clutched in her hand.

"You were sleep, weren't you? Lazy ass sonuva—"

"ACTUALLY," I say, interrupting her mid-nag. "I was trying to zip up my pants."

"For twenty minutes you were trying to _zip_ your pants up? You're a liar! A no-good filthy little rat, Taizuya! I don't have to do this, you know! I could've let the orphanage take you! But no, I decided to be the _good_ big sister and take you in because _no one else_ would! And this is how you repay me? By oversleeping when you're supposed to be working! I should just…"

However, if there's one thing I appreciate, it's the ability to tune my sister out. A skill I picked up and learned to utilize shortly after my _wonderful_ mother was incarcerated. I waltz my way into the bathroom, grab the toothpaste, and let the _brush-brush-brush _further drown out the bitch-cycle.

"…I'll never get married! Never! My biological clock is _ticking. _And _you're _making me run out of time faster! This is all your fault! All of it!"

"Well, I'm sorry, Kemi." I spit into the sink and wipe my mouth on one of her towels.

"Don't use my damn towel for your mouth! Use your own damn towel! Don't touch my shit, Tai!"

"It's the only towel in the—"

"Then I guess you should just go buy some more!"

"With _what_ money?"

"Why don't you have your own money? I can't buy _everything _for you!"

"I don't have any money because you don't pay me."

"I pay you by allowing you to _live_ here. Don't get smart with me boy."

I sigh. I should've realized the battle was lost before it even began. There's no sense it trying to talk sense into this woman.

"I'll be in the kitchen. You better be down there helping me grill these fish in two minutes, Taizuya. Two minutes! Or else I'll be sure to tell Gurro to cease your training."

Now _that, _is a new threat.

"Okay." I say, not wanting to provoke her further. She slams the door shut and hauls herself down the stairs, muttering on about how she has to "do everything by herself" in this "damned house."

A typical evening in the Khan household.

It actually takes me another twenty minutes to get down to the kitchen. On account that I discovered, unfortunately, that my traditional Khan Fish Chop Shop hat had a gaping hole inside of it, and I spent as much time as possible sewing it to perfection. Unless I told you, you'd have never known there was a hole at all.

It's not that late, maybe around six or seven, and the sun is just beginning to duck behind the mountains on the far side of Republic City. The city is tinted in a golden-brown texture that gives the city a more ominous feel. Appropriate, I suppose, if you're aware of the crime that lurks down every alleyway and between every small shop. Lucky for my sister and me, we reside on the "nicer" part of town, and the Republic City Defense Force patrols regularly during this time of the day. Not like we couldn't handle ourselves, though. Being a firebender has benefits _other _than being able to grill fish. It's great for grilling crooks, too.

"It's a slow night," Kemi says, rounding the corner of the medium-sized shop with a platter of over-grilled fish in her hand. Kemi may have been an exceptional firebender, but cooking was _not_ her forte. She slides all of the fish into the trash and wipes the platter clean with a wet dish towel. "So if you want, I can spare you a few yuan to get something to eat."

An obvious change of heart.

"No, but thank you." I say as I take the silver platter from her. "I've got it, you can head to bed." I offer, noticing the dark circles under her eyes. My sister is a _lot _of things… but above all else, she's a hard worker. My offer warms her milk chocolate cheeks. With her jet-black hair spilling down her back, she looks so much like my mother, that it frightens me.

"Thank _you, _but there's no way I'm letting you run this place by _yourself. _No matter _how _slow." She jokes as she tousles my hair. "Go on in the back and grill a few fish for me. That's what you can do to help."

I open my mouth to say something, but clamp it shut. Now isn't the time, I tell myself. But my sister's already ready to pry.

"Something on your mind?" she sits on the countertop's sink, and I already know there's no way I'll be able to weasel or lie my way out of this one. I squeeze the plate in my hand and clear my throat, trying to find the right words.

"Do you ever…Do you ever miss mom?" My sister's smile fades and she turns her head away from me to the various cooking tools hung high on the wall.

"Sometimes," she says, tugging and smoothing her skirt before bringing her eyes back to mine to finish her sentence. "But then I remember what she did to dad—what she did to _us._" Her eyes harden and she breaks my gaze to stare ahead. "And then I realize that there's really nothing to miss, after all." Her voice is vague, indifferent. Her body may be here, but her mind is clearly somewhere else.

"But don't you wonder what would've happened if things had gone differently… if—"

"If she hadn't lost it? I use to," she slides off of the counter and washes her hands in its sink. "But I stopped '_wondering'_ a long time ago, and accepted the facts. You should, too. We can't rewrite history, Tai. No matter how different we imagine it."

The most awkward silence constricts us. There's a lot more that we'd both like to say, but there are no words that are synonymous to the language of the heart.

"I'm tired. I think I'll take you up on your offer." I can tell by the sudden change of heart that I've forced her to conjure thoughts that took eons to suppress. The handles squeak and the water ceases falling from the faucet. Without another word, my sister trudges upstairs softly. A thoughtful silence replaces the awkward one.

I head out back to where we keep the fish, and select a few I'd like to grill. I toss them into the air, inhale sharply, and convert all of my frustration into pure chi. The energy rushes to the ends of my fingertips, and I feel my body itself become pure energy. The bullets of fire that fly from my fingertips roast the raw fish before they can even change direction and head fall towards the platter. The little rush I feel from such small firebending gets me pumped for my lesson with Gurro tomorrow. I head out front and hand a middle-aged woman who must've ordered the fish my sister burnt before the fresh fish free of charge. She thanks me kindly before making her departure. It bothers me that she's out here this time of night on her own, mainly because Republic City isn't the same glamorous city it is by day as it is by night. Even after I try and tell myself that somewhere, maybe around the corner there's a warm car waiting to pick her up, I can't shake the feeling that something isn't right.

I bring a few raw fish from out back and clean them in the water bowl out front. Akemi was right; tonight _was_ a slow night. I lose myself in my thoughts as I clean fish after fish, knowing that if things continued to be this slow, I'd end up grilling less than half. As the city becomes darker and darker with every passing moment, I slip further and further into my thoughts.

It's been ten long years. And somehow, it still feels like it happened yesterday. The memory still has the power to knock the wind out of me, to suck all of my breath away and release the unrivalled pain of losing the two people you love the most. One to themselves, and one to the other. Time erases everything, though, and no matter how much pain I feel when I come across a photograph Akemi forgot to burn – or when I discover one of my father's pipes lying dusted in one of the unsearched cupboards – I know it'll pass eventually. The fresh cut will eventually heal, and when it does, all that will remain is a scar.

"Excuse me," I'm yanked from my thoughts by a female voice. It startles me, and my arms spasm, sending the bowl of putrid fish water flying over the counter

"Shit I—"I do my best to catch it, but I'm no water bender and I only end up making it _worse._ By fumbling for the damn thing, I consequentially end up helping the water leap from the bowl and onto the young lady's shirt.

I've never seen such a pretty face so angry.


	3. Strangeness & Charm

Hello Readers! Before we get into Chapter 3, there's something important I have to say. First of all. thank you for taking time out of _your_ day to read _my _work. I can't even begin to express my gratitude. Secondly, this chapter is a bit different than others. It is told from both Lian and Tai's point of view. For chapters like these, Lian's first line will be _italicized_, and Tai's will be **bolded**.

Happy reading!

* * *

_Not even five seconds in,_

And I already regret letting Keshi talk me into coming to this place. For starters, we've crossed into the shady part of Republic City that has the second highest bender population. We're in the center of the very thing we fight to oppress. And I for one certainly don't believe any fish is worth useless conflict. No matter how hungry I may be.

Second of all, I can tell from afar that there's no one tending to the shop.

"This isn't very professional." I criticize, glaring at Keshi, who's too busy brushing his hair to the front of his head to notice my frustration.

"Yeah, something's definitely fishy."

"Keshi," I sigh. "Stick to chi-blocking… it's what you're good at."

"Hey, lighten up. No need to rain on _my_ parade because yours isn't going so well."

I roll my eyes and just as I'm sure I've come up with a witty remark, a boy who looks to be my age or slightly younger comes out front and begins cleaning a few raw fish. My stomach turns as we watch from afar. When we finally begin to make our way to the counter, Keshi clears his throat and says:

"Well, go on, go order something." He pushes.

"I'm not so sure I'm hungry anymore."

"Well I _am._ Order me anything, I love the food here. I'll even pay, too."

I consider his offer, and come to the conclusion that there's no harm getting _him_ some food. Keshi stays behind as I approach the boy at the counter.

"Excuse me," I say politely. "I'd like to place an order."

The boy doesn't respond. He continues to stare ahead, through me, cleaning the fish like he was programmed to do so.

Like he's deaf.

I glare at Keshi. He shrugs innocently. Certainly if Keshi came here often he'd know the person who tends to the place was _deaf._

"_Excuse me," _I say louder and tap on the freshly-polished wooden countertop. "I—"

The next thing I know, a huge silver bowl full of foul water comes careening in my direction.

"Shit I—"The boy says. The thing catches me entirely off guard, and I have absolutely no time to redirect the bowl's path. By the time I even _think_ to move out of the way, it comes crashing into my chest, it's mixed contents spilling all over my clean blouse.

For a moment I just stand there, looking at my soiled shirt with my moist, sticky, _filthy_ arms to my side in absolute disbelief. _This did not just happen. This did not just happen._

I look up, and can feel my face twist in the most disgusting way.

"Ohhh…in the name of Avatar Aang, Tai…" Keshi says from behind. The fact that he mentions the late avatar further fuels my disgust.

"I'm so sorry! Oh man I didn't mean to—You scared the shit out of me—" The boy, 'Tai' comes flying out from behind the counter with a wet rag in his hand. I can't even find the words to express what I feel right now.

So I say nothing.

I begin to storm off, only to have my hand grabbed by Tai; I spin on my heels and face him.

"I'm sor—"

"It's fine."

"No, it's not I—"

"It's alright. It's just a stupid shirt." I say, pulling my hand free from his grip. But it's not. It's not just a stupid shirt. It's _my _shirt and now it's coated in fish—…. My stomach begins to dance again.

"I need to go." I say.

"You can wash upsta—"

"No thanks."

"But—"

"Just leave me alone, I don't want your help."

"Tai man…" Keshi comes and places a hand on Tai's shoulders. This confirms my suspicions that they are rather familiar with each other. "Just let it go."

Seemingly hurt by my words, Tai's remorseful expression morphs into one of indifference.

"Whatever," he says as he storms back to his little fish shop, picking up something off the ground and then recovers the bowl. "Just leave." He storms into the shop.

Keshi walks me home then, and the anger I thought I had diffused ignites itself once more. Not a word passes between us. By the time I get home, my father is already sleeping. I'm grateful for that, because I'm certainly _not_ in the mood for simple small talk.

It's not until I'm in my bed lying, face up, still fuming, staring at the ceiling, (after a particularly long shower) that I realize I'd dropped my butterfly pin in my haste to leave. At first, I feel empty, like I've lost a part of myself in a realm I can no longer enter. But as my eyes finally close, I remember it's my mother's; and anything connected to a bender like my mother, deserves to be lost anyway.

Right?

* * *

**Last Night**,

was just _stupid_. Plain and simple. I'm _still _pissed about it, no matter how much I tell myself that I'll probably _never _see the chick Keshi brought with him again, and that she was just acting out of _embarrassment, _I can't stop thinking about it. I was only trying to _help._

Sure, it was my fault. But I tried to _fix_ it, and the chick made absolutely no effort to recognize that fact. It's always the pretty girls with the _most_ attitude. I twirl the butterfly pin she'd dropped last night in the pocket of my shorts with one of my fingers. I'd wanted to throw it away, but I found I couldn't.

"Stop thinking about it, man," Keshi says, patting me on the shoulder the next morning. I'm resting on a log at the fairest end of the of the forest, just a little off from the nearest stream of water. After my lesson with Gurro – which went _horrible _due to me not being able to focus on converting my negative energy into chi, by the way — Keshi swept by and invited me to hang out here in the forest, where we could just relax, free from the eye of the city.

"I'm not thinking about _it_," I deny, shrugging him off and taking a huge bite of the scarlet apple I take from his hands. "I'm thinking about my lesson with _Gurro_."

"Right," Keshi smirked, rolling his eyes. "Because thinking about your training _always _require you scowl into the distance for ten minutes straight."

"Who was that girl, anyway?"

"Who? The one you aren't thinking about?" he taunts.

"I'm not in the mood."

"Okay, no need to get your draws in bunch, Z," his smirk flatlines, an undertone of serious wavering beneath his next words… "She's an Equalist—"

"She's an _Equalist?_" That explains a lot." I scoff, tossing the half-eaten apple down hill to where a young fox antelope quickly recovers it before gratefully prancing away, vanishing into the underbrush.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Keshi inquires, his voice entirely devoid of its usually amusing tone. I break my gaze from the underbrush and look at him. His toned arms are crossed over his chest, which is tan from the constant exposure to sunlight. His brown hair is, of course, tousled and falls close to his hazel eyes.

"I didn't mean it like that," I assure lightly. "I just mean—"

"You just mean that we're hostile, right?"

A rather painful and awkward silence, as my mouth gawks, sounds of confusion breaking through,

"I didn't mean—"

"It's alright," Keshi pats me on shoulder sympathetically as if _he's _the one who should be sorry. "We _can_ be assholes."

I chuckle lightly, the wave of guilt receding just below the shores of my pride. Keshi continues to pat me on the shoulder mechanically, too out of reach to break the rhythmic pat-pat-

"And I'm about to get a whole more holy."

"What…" The word barely escapes my mouth before I see her, a head full of ink black hair that is unevenly spotlighted from the bits of sun that managed to dodge the branches. A face decorated with bright blue eyes rimmed with black eyeliner, cheekbones high but soft, and a cherry-red frown I'd never forget. She walks right past me, like I'm invisible. Like I'm a meager waterworm beneath her royal feet.

"Keshi," she chimes, obviously full of artificial joy. "I'm _so_ glad you could invite me."

"Well, yeah I.." Keshi looks at me and I can tell that while we may not be acknowledging each other, the equalist girl and I are giving him the same_ what-the-fuck-is-going-on_ glare.

"I just thought we could all, you know, …hang out together."

"Great, great," she says. "So what are we going to do?"

"Well… hi." I say, waving for her attention, passive-aggressively bringing forth the fact that she hasn't yet acknowleged my presence.

She cuts her eyes to me, two arctic skies between the slit of circuluar egg whites. The way the sun smiles on her face pleases me. Even if it's only a slight scowl that it graces.

"Hello." she says tightly, then re-directs her attention to Keshi. "Anyway, what are we going to do Keshi, I—"

"Just a '_Hello_'? No '_My name is…_?'"

They both look at me.

"Well I don't know you so…" Equalist says, the extra umph around "I-DON'T-KNOW-YOU is made all the more sour since she glares right at Keshi when she says it, even though she's talking about _me. "_There's really no point in it."

"Get to know me, then. You tell people your name when you want to know them, don't you?"

"Why—"

"Because I'd like to know you," the words leap from my mouth before I can catch them. "because any friend of Keshi is a friend of mine." I end up stepping closer to her, my hands knit behind my back with a smug grin on my face. Until I'm just inches away from hers and staring right into those deep, chilly blue eyes…

"I'd rather not." Icy eyes backs away uncomfortably. "As a matter of fact I think I'll go home." She glowers at Keshi before preparing to storm off. This time, I catch her arm in my hand before she can leave me speechless again.

"Wait—"

She snatches her arm away, with surprising force, startled. Spins on her heels and deals a series of furious and painfully precise blows with her fingertips to my forearm. The pain leaves me speechless, my blood feels as though it's committing suicide in my arm, using my veins as nooses.

And then it goes limp. Falling to my side like a giant wet noodle, I groan as I catch it with my functional arm. It dangles in my hand, feeling foreign. Keshi pulls her away. It all happens too fast; the hand, the arm, the _Keshi._

"Lian, what the hell!" he screams as he runs to tend to my arm. "What is your _problem!"_


	4. I'm Not Calling You a Liar

_It all happened so fast,_

I had been making my departure; mentally scribing the verbal lashing I'd be giving Keshi later for somehow forgetting to mention he'd invited the young man who spilled that putrid water on me along to our annual hunting trip. I turned away. Trying to conceal the blush that had unwittingly blemished my face when that _fool_ stepped too close to me.

And then, I felt my arm being snatched.

For every action, there is an opposite and equal reaction. And needless to say, when you pull the pendulum—

I black out, instantly going into defense mode, my fingertips hungrily tearing apart the weakest parts of his arm.

—it's going to swing _back_.

"Lian, what the hell!" Keshi screams. I open my eyes, not realizing until then that they'd been closed in the first place, and find a horrified Keshi holding Tai's arm, assessing the damage.

"I—"

"What is your _problem!"_

The look on both of their faces is parallel to the one I gave fish boy last night. Keshi uses his own hands to unlock the boy's blocked energy veins. He tries to muffle a groan, but I know full on well how agonizing it is to have one's chi unblocked.

"Well?" Tai says to me, anger slightly lacing his voice. "Are you going to apologize?"

"You shouldn't have put your hands on me." I say, turning up my nose and crossing my arms. Apologize? That was the last thing I wanted to do. Fish boy— Tai – gets ready to spew some other nonsense but Keshi interrupts:

"I think we need a little mediation."

"Yeah, I don't think so." I reply.

"I completely agree. Kemi's probably wondering where I am anyway," Tai adds, just a little twinge of sarcasm underlying his voice. "so I should probably get going."

"I already talked to her," Keshi doesn't miss a beat. "I told her you were helping me with preparation for the Pro Bending tournament.

I whip my head to Keshi and blink dumbfounded. Tai does the same.

"You're _helping _prepare for the _pro-bending _games?" we gape simultaneously.

"I was going to get to that, guys—"

"You don't have to, I've heard enough. I'm leaving." I've had just about enough of surprises, and I turn to storm off, feeling my cheeks begin to ignite. I find my arm yet again grabbed.

"Just hold on a—"

I snatch my arm out of his grip and is in his face before he can even finish his sentence.

"Don't you _dare_ touch me!" I point a threatening finger in his face. Too startled to move his body, he cuts Keshi a quick _help-me-out-here _glare, who shrugs his shoulders, sits back down on the log, and proceeds to watch.

"Look, i just think we could at least give Keshi a second to explain himself. This is just as much of a surprise to me as it is to you."

* * *

**Equalist probes my eyes before taking her finger out of my face and exhaling.**

I can still see her uncertainty about me in the flash of her eyes as her focus diverts itself from me to Keshi, some of the anger going with it.

"So what is this about the pro-bending prep?" she crosses her arms as she asks, even though she doesn't want to hear it, she's already made up her mind. God, she reminds me of my sister.

"My dad's reffing for the Finals, so when the season finally starts I'll be prepping the arena, making sure the games'll go fair and square."

"So you're on their side now?" she chuckles resentfully,

"It's just a sport."

"Created by the very people we fight to oppress. It's not just a game, Keshi. The pro-bending games are one of the most brainwashing media sources that keep many of Republic City's citizens programmed into thinking those Benders only do it for fun. You know full on well what potential they have. What they could do to _us. _And I don't see how you and your father helping them _prep_ for the damn thing is going to help keep the Revolution alive."

The silence holds us hostage as the tension in the air becomes ridiculously tangible. The only sound felt and heard being the oblivious chirps of birds and songs of warm crickets hidden within blades of the forest' grass.

"Done?" Keshi brings himself to his feet. Equalist stands her ground. "We're getting the blueprints of the arena."

"For?" we ask simultaneously.

He looks around for a bit before stepping closer and whispering.

"Amon."

"Amon?" we gasp in chorus, mine in horror and hers in joy.

"How'd you work your way up to Amon?" she says, her offensive exterior melting

"My dad has his connections." Keshi smiles haughtily.

"What's he planning?" she's practically glowing, hanging on to every word coming from Keshi's mouth, ready to jump to the next.

"I don't know…but if he needs the blueprints of the arena... it has to be _big." _

They continue to ramble on, spewing conspiracy after conspiracy as if they're spilling the _Who What _and _When _gossip of a party that icy eyes missed out on, while I'm on the sidelines and know that the party was nothing but trouble. There's this feeling that boils in my stomach. I'd known Keshi was an Equalist; we'd grown up and with each other… but he'd already made it clear to me his standings with the Equalist was only a cover-up until he'd hit eighteen and broke away from his father. So to hear this…

"Don't you have anything to say?" Equalist intrudes on my thoughts and catches me off guard.

"What?"

"About _this," _she giggles, raising her arms to the air and twirling them around as if she was advertising the forest. As if it was the _forest_ we were discussing in secret all along. "About Amon. The plan. This could be a _milestone _for the Revolution. Isn't it great?"

"Super." I word sarcastically, cocking my head towards Keshi. "I only wish I would've known the details _sooner." _I can't fight the twinge at the corner of my mouth. Equalist doesn't catch the sarcasm though.

"Well, If Amon is keeping it on the DL, then he's got to have his reasons. I mean," she continues to pace as she theorizes. "Why not just come out of the closet about it?"

"We're talking about his scheme, _not_ his sexuality."

Keshi can't fight a snicker. Ignoring my comment, she continues. "Then it has to be big. Bigger than anything he's done in the past year." She pauses and turns to Keshi. "Do you think your father can get us a meeting with him?

"Whoa, hold on a second here," I interrupt and throw up my hands. "There's no need for all of that. We don't need to _meet _Amon, I think we've all heard _enough_ about that man."

"Heard _enough?" _she scoffs approaching me. "I haven't heard much of _anything_."

"Then I guess you don't listen to the radio." I cut in.

"I do. And little mini transmissions will never compare to the opportunity of _meeting—"_

"The guy's a lunatic."

I can tell I said the wrong thing from the way Keshi closes his eyes.

"What?" she says, stunned by my words.

Keshi gives me this little don't-do-it look. It's _my _turn to ignore _him._

"I mean honestly, all he does is speak _bad _about benders. Benders _this. _Benders _that. _And just has a bunch of brainwashed cronies – no offense—"

"Much taken." Keshi interrupts.

"—do his dirty work. He's manipulative. A little bully who probably was never hugged by his mommy who _hides _behind radio transmissions trying to scare little girls into giving up their bending—"

"And I suppose you think benders are better."

"Well, I don't think they're _worse_."

"Right. Of _course _they're not. Robbing us _normal _citizens. Using their _bending _to strike _fear _in the hearts of non-benders, using their 'gifts' to take advantage of who and _what _they want _when _they want it. I don't think you'd say that to the elder woman who was _mugged _walking home from _your _little shop last night, Tai."

"You remembered my name." I really don't mean to say it aloud, and by the time I catch myself its already sprung from my mouth. "I mean, I didn't think you'd remember—"

"Forget the name of the guy who threw _fish _on me? I don't think I'll ever forget.

"I said I was sorry."

"And I said I was fine."

Keshi claps his hands together. "Ookay, I think that's all the, uh, mediation we need for today, we should all go—"

"I'm not going anywhere." I cut in.

"Likewise." She steps closer to me, until I can smell the sweet aroma of her air and her large eyes are just seconds away from my chin.

"Then I'll just go." Keshi says awkwardly, from the corner of my eye I catch him pointing to a nonexistent doorframe over his shoulder. Equalist and I have locked gazes.

"Bye." We say simultaneously. I listen as Keshi runs off. At first hesitantly, and then more naturally. This girl – Lian, was it? – and I just stand there, staring each other down. The songs of birds and crickets singing in the heat is all my ears hear.

"You know what, I think I'll leave, too—"she states as she tries to maneuver past me, I grab her arm.

"Wait—" I say.

"Don't touch me. Don't _touch_ me." She says as she tries to pull me away. My footing is so uncertain that she overpowers me and I slip on moist grass and come crashing to the Earth, still clutching her arm. She stumbles herself, but is able to balance herself out by bending over so I wouldn't take her down with me. I hit the ground with a _thud_. "I don't like to be touched! I swear to—to _something_ if you _ever _put your hands on me again you'll lose more than you arm, boy!"

Of course, she's yet to help me up.

"Why do you have this?" her voice suddenly becomes soft.

I groan and sit up, my ears ringing from the impact.

"Thanks for asking if I'm alright. Not like I fell or anything." I respond, pressing my palm to my forehead until the ringing fades away. When my eyes flutter open, I see she's squatted right in my face, twirling the red butterfly pin between her fingers.

"Why do you have this?" she enquires again, more angrily this time. "You stole this from me last night, didn't you?"

"What? No! I'm not a _thief." _

"You're a _liar." _

"Okay first of all, don't try and sit here and make _me _out to be a bad guy. I _found _that outside of my shop last night, so if it _happens _to be yours, I'm sorry. Second of all, I'm no liar. You don't know anything about me so don't pretend you _do."_

"_I _never said I knew anything about you. I don't need to know your entire life to know you're a _thief._"

I roll my eyes.

"You don't even seem like the type to pin your hair up. Is it even _yours?"_

She goes from squatting to standing up, which makes me stand, too. I can see how nervous she's getting… it makes me smile.

"It's my… It's my mother's." She withers. "So it might as well be mine."

"Oh, so you stole it from your mother?"

"I found it."

"So you stole it from your mother." I tease.

"I can't _steal _from people who don't exist."

"What are you—"

"My mother," she stiffens as she stares me right into the eyes. "is dead."


End file.
